


Absence

by Nugg



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sick Character, Sick Fic, loss of voice, oh yes my favorite too- Akira overthinking, sorta sad at some points but I sprinkled that humor in that fluff!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nugg/pseuds/Nugg
Summary: He could think without getting interrupted, or not screech out replies in order to be heard. He could compliment Ryuji until his ears turned pink without the consequence of the flustered denials turning him away.The silence was rewarding.Birds chirping outside, you could hear the hum of the elevator down the hall now. Akira could listen for the pad of feet on hardwood to signal the closeness of his partner.The silence was rewarding… at first.





	Absence

      It had started with a sneeze. 

       Ryuji. In the middle of some long story Akira had long stopped paying attention to as they walked the lonely streets… had sneezed quite violently. Perhaps the cold finally getting to him, the initial shock of it caused confusion. 

          Obviously it was something bad if the guy had stopped talking. Halting their movements, his brow furrowed in question, sidewalk devoid of anyone for a long while, their nightly strolls probably weren’t the best idea to do deep into the winter. Especially with Ryuji and his lack of care to the weather. 

            Another sneeze echoed off the walls of the building next to him, and he frowned, “I never get sick, man.” 

          As true as it was, he wasn’t surprised it would hit him someday. In all the years they’d known each other, he’d only heard the sniffles once or twice. Ryuji was a healthy guy, athletic, if his doctors slips and praises he’d received from a certain blue-haired-physician, hadn’t been enough, the physical therapy tests could stand in as well.!

           Akira felt bad for him, beginning to see all that looked wrong in the blond after the slight indication that he might be ill. More pale than usual in the soft wintery glow, his reddened nose stood out among the overwhelming purple of his jacket. His poor baby was getting sick… 

            It took a moment for him to shuck his glove off, but when the chill hit his palm, he quickly pressed the back of his hand to Ryuji’s forehead. The warmth strange among the low temperatures, and lack of hat, Akira didn’t really want to break the news. Watching the unnecessary worry spread on his boyfriends face, trying to act indifferent himself to downplay his suspicions. He pulled away and sucked his lips in to debate on what to do next. Ryuji had been complaining of a sore throat for a few days, but it was surely nothing serious… 

           Only seconds ticked by when he finally reached up to his own neck and unraveled his scarf. Light smile, portraying the care he felt as he reached up and wrapped it tightly around Ryuji. Making sure to cover that unsightly red nose of his, for good measure, he popped his hood up and stepped away to look at his work. 

            Sure. Ryuji looked like an Eskimo, but, at least it prevented anything getting worse. 

          “We’ll head back for tonight. How about you take a hot bath?” He used his still ungloved hand to cup the rather hot cheek of Ryuji, reassurance and comfort like a topical medicine, he nodded. 

            He was right, though. In all the years Akira had known him, through high school, and two apartments together, he’d never had even so much as a head cold. Akira was always the one laying in bed, completely miserable with a stuffy nose and watery eyes, he was unsure. 

           Ryuji made the best soup for him when he was last sick, and made sure he was always comfortable. Giving company and care at the best possible times, maybe it was finally time for him to be on the receiving end. 

        Hand in hand, he made sure to stick close. Watching in silence was the shop window displays emitted a lovely soft glow to his face every time they’d pass one. Dresses, suits, t-shirts, it didn’t matter the store, or clothes presented. Akira just liked to stare. 

         And as awful as it had sounded, it was quite peaceful to not have the beauty of the streets be backed by conversation. Stories that didn’t involve them, and endless talking being taken away had put a whole new mood to their walks. 

         Another sneeze, and a groan… Akira held on tighter. 

           Upon entering their home, it was Akira’s turn to frown and worry. Taking away the scarf, and watching him as he shed his coat, the light in the foyer definitely didn’t do him any favors. Practically putting a spotlight to his ghostly complexion, and noticeable dreary look to his eyes. Already spaced out not seconds inside, he was obviously sick. 

           “We should take your temperature.” Finally getting to take off his glasses, he reached up once more to feel his forehead. Watching how miserable his boyfriend looked, accompanied by the searing heat beneath his fingers, if he could take away what Ryuji was feeling and put it in himself instead, he would. 

            Like a concerned mother, he ushered him through the house, pushing with light force towards the bathroom. No gripes or groans about it, he definitely wasn’t feeling himself, the usual whines and complaints of his bratty man-child nowhere to be found. 

            Usually he’d hear protests and loud obnoxious moans about Akia being overly protective or something along those lines. But, the way his mouth was snapped shut now had furthered his doubts and stresses. The silence being rewarding, but all the same lonely, he thought maybe he should enjoy the change rather than mourn the loss. 

           “What’s the temp?” Ryuji asked, moving to see the digital numbers for himself. 

           Akira sighed, “You’re running a fever.” 

           Scrunching up his face, he waved it off, “Ehh, it should be okay-“ he interrupted himself with a cough, wincing and lightly touching his throat as he continued his contradictory statement, “I’m… yeah. Psssh, I’m good.” 

 

             Lies. 

            Lies and absolute bull.

 

            “Call in to work, I’m sure they’ll understand,” The feathery haired guy stared into the others eyes with a sort of knowing look, “You look awful, honey.” 

             Clicking his tongue, he faked offense, “You callin’ me ugly?” 

             Shrugging, Akira tried to hide his grin, “Take a warm bath. Soak for a while, and let me baby my poor sick boy.” 

           He swore he heard a mumble about not being sick before he’d shuffled out. Hearing the faucet turn on immediately with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, knowing full well Ryuji’s denials fell flat and drowned in the bath water. The fact that the guy would deny being sick over being Akira’s boy sort of lightening his mood. 

           All he had to do was make some soup… it couldn’t be too difficult, Ryuji adored his curry. But ah, well,  _ curry wasn’t soup _ , and his being spicy and all, he’d just take a wild guess to assume it wouldn’t be good on the throat. 

            He knew his boyfriend wasn’t picky, and was oblivious to most things. So, would he notice if Akira spiced up some canned soup? Put a little bit of basil, and some odds and ends to make it more desirable, it’s practically like it wasn’t sitting on their shelf for ages. 

           Upon lighting up the burner, he’d heard the water stop flowing, faucet no longer on. Interrupted by a rather aggressive set of coughs, the clock showed a time Doctor Takemi would most likely give him shit for if he rang her up to ask silly questions. Harsh words like; “You’re overreacting,” or “Look it up on the web.” More things to remind him of her shady practices with her surprising lack of care to her patients. 

            He took the imaginary advice in his head, however, and whipped out his phone. Ready to get his online degree of medicine with his various searches into helping cure whatever it is the usually loud blond had come down with. 

          The flu… 

          Common cold… 

_ Whooping cough??  _

          Definitely not as severe as some of the articles had made it out to be. That’s for sure, like, no, he was  _ pretty _ sure he didn’t have cancer. 

           Now,  _ laryngitis,  _ sounded just about right. 

          Thinking back to the soreness Ryuji had been randomly feeling in his throat the past few days, it seemed highly likely. Coughing, and sneezing causing him to wince in pain and clutch his neck, it hit all the marks on the extensive page he found himself on. He thought it was just dust, a sign for him to finally get around to cleaning up the place for once in a while. 

            Laryngitis also resulted in a lost voice. And as awful as it had sounded, Akira had to weigh whether it was a good or bad thing. Thinking back on the loud voice that woke him up from his nap earlier… his lack of a filter… it all added to his character, right? Settling on a bad thing with good tendencies, he wondered what a world without Ryuji's voice would be like. 

           He’d soon learn firsthand. No more wondering to what it’d feel like as they’d woken up in the early morning hours to Ryuji hacking up a lung. 

          Getting out of the bath and eating his totally homemade soup like he was told. Akira had sent him to bed after checking his temperature again. Watching him sulk and disappear down the hallway, he was practically oozing sympathy for the poor guy. 

           Akira just wanted him to feel better is all, and it was painful to see him as miserable as he was when he came back out for a glass of water. An hour passed, the now rather sickly looking guy with bedhead had staggered by with a low mumble of his intentions. 

           “I love you, Ryuji.” He had said, leaning over the back of the couch and watching as the bleary brown eyes finally opened to see him. Soft still, upon the contact with Akira.

            Holding the glass to his chest like it was a teddy bear, he’d smiled back as much as he could. Still weak, but all the more meaningful, he began to shuffle back, “Love ya too, dork.” 

            Raspy and hoarse, he didn’t know that those were the last words he’d hear Ryuji say for quite some time. 

          Dark in their bedroom, windows only casting in a sliver of moonlight to reveal a hurt filled Ryuji, Akira sat up too. Reaching over for a light embrace, the heat radiating from the fragile man so toxic, it had matched with the wheeze in his rickety- yet, steady breaths. 

             “You alright?” He’d thought to ask after a moment, hot hand coming up to touch Akira’s forearm wrapped around his chest. Features not visible, it wasn’t hard to guess what kind of face he was making.

            “Mm- eegh.” He croaked. And Akira tried to immediately decipher. 

             “Wha- graaa.” 

             “Ryuji I think your voice-“

              “Euggg.” He paused at the sound. Nothing more than a groan, like someone had stolen his tongue. 

             Their touching sent the frantic panic of Ryuji straight to Akira’s bones. Worried now, reaching over to awkwardly turn on the light next to their bed to see really what was going on. 

             The white sheets that rustled in his actions even softer through the sadness of seeing the furrowed brow. Clutching at his throat with lips pressed hard together, nothing could prepare him to see such a sad thing. 

             “I think your voice is shot.” Akira had finally settled, watching his boyfriend grimace. Quickly reaching up and smoothing back the flattened blond hair, taking note to give him a trim sometime soon. 

             His phone showed a time both of them should’ve been sleeping soundly at. Akira should be getting ready for work in two hours time… he hadn’t taken a sick day himself in a while either. 

           This was all too concerning for him anyway. He couldn’t possibly work with the image of Ryuji at home, completely miserable, stuck in his head. 

            “Lay back down, okay?” He tried his best to not say anything dumb like ‘try not to cough’ or some shit, “We’ll see how it is in the morning.” 

             Like a puppy, he pouted, leaning on Akira before he could crawl back to his side. Hands like magnets to rub circles into Ryuji’s rather cold hands. 

              Spoiler alert: it wasn’t any better in the morning. 

             Heads on the pillows, lights out once again, Akira felt miles away in their bed. Like a river was between the two as he lay and watch his boyfriend stare at the ceiling. Chest slowly moving up and down, it was better to stare at him to lull into sleep than to count sheep he guessed. 

              Sometimes, they did find themselves up this late. Nightmares more frequently present in Ryujis head, he’d wake up with a gasp, loud and long. Going to feel for his heart as it beat out of control, feeling immediate comfort in Akira coming to his aid out of a deep sleep. Practically petting him as he shook in his arms, never telling what the contents where, he didn’t want to pry. 

           What did he have nightmares about? Was it Kamoshida? His father? The one time he had ever said anything, it was about the track team, beating him relentlessly, and furthering the abuse more than punching and kicking. 

              He’d known there was some instances that he’d have an awful one, but not shake Akira awake. Some sort of humble fear of bothering him in his sleep, Ryuji only knew himself of the few bad dreams Akira had. Akira couldn’t will himself to shake the other for comfort. 

             Once a week, actually, now that he recently began to count. The interrogation room, flashing red and blue lights, the coldness from the cell that caused him to shoot his eyes open to the real world. The real world was better, far in the future, where he could pretend that waking up half on top of Ryuji with arms wrapped tightly, was all just a side effect of sleep. 

              They were both groggy when they awoke however, to get back on track. The sniffle of the sick man next to him, grounding his thoughts. 

              Sunlight filtering through, sheets causing the angelic feeling they’d always had. Bedhead galore, their eyes had met each other by chance, and Akira had smiled. 

            Neither of them had work, so, who’s to say they couldn’t just… lay for a while? Soak in the late morning vibes, ignore everything else to just stay in their little bubbles for once. 

             Quickly, as if it was the first thought to enter Ryuji’s head, he reached for his phone and began typing away.

 

**From: Ryuji**

-I’m gonna save my voice 

-We can just text for today, don’t wanna make it worse. 

 

               Akira frowned and looked up from his screen, “Are you at least feeling better?” 

             Ryuji had nodded. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-Yeah, I think my fever went down 

 

              He touched his own forehead, taking his hand away and giving a thumbs up. So genuinely cute and innocent. 

               Sighing with his relief evident in his breath, he let himself finally relax, “That’s good, we can just have a lazy day, right?” 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-Aw hell ya 

 

              Sucking on his bottom lip, a tick Akira had come to observe and adore, his boyfriend was suddenly thinking. Gears turning endlessly. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-I can get a notebook too. 

-We can make this work 

 

            “I’ll miss your voice,” Akira said, ignoring his previous thoughts about actually enjoying the absence. Of course it’d be lonely without him, and so odd with himself filling the space, everyone knew he wasn’t the biggest talker. 

             Sitting up, and letting the hair that stood up in all its frizzy glory fall around his face, he looked out their window. A hobby of his own to watch as his neighbors and strangers passed by. Usually touching on this strange activity as he sipped his morning brew, waiting for Ryuji to get out of the bathroom. 

          Sounds of his voice, horribly singing along to some pop song. Or his yells across their apartment to gain attention, sometimes the bang of soap bottles he’d accidentally drop while showering.

            Today, however, was something different, as if watching them now was a sin, he realized the heavy contrasts. He sort of needed that annoying background noise, so, today could incorporate some change, right? 

            He could think without getting interrupted, or not screech our replies in order to be heard. He could compliment Ryuji until his ears turned pink without the consequence of the flustered denials turning him away. 

            The silence was rewarding.

            Birds chirping outside, you could hear the hum of the elevator down the hall now. Akira could listen for the pad of feet on hardwood to signal the closeness of his partner.

            The silence was rewarding… at first. 

           He’d gone the whole day without so much as one strained word from the blond. Making breakfast, watching his phone for texts, and replying verbally, he couldn’t dwell on how different it really was at that moment. 

           They’d made their way for a walk around the park, much less chilly in the afternoon. Hand in hand again with more present sniffling.

           Actually hearing the sounds of nature, and the passing conversations for once sure was a shock. Feeling like his first days of Shujin in listening in to everyone’s daily lives. 

            This time, he caught a few foul words about Ryuji and him. Almost tempted to drop their hold, and shuffle away in embarrassment. Feeling like a kid all over again with noticing the judgemental stares. The fierce eyes, the glares and whispers of, “Look at them,” reminding him of the grey halls of a school he’d tried to forget. 

           Far and few between, they did stick with him. Ryuji was there usually to distract him from others, but today was different, forcing himself to hear the nature and crunch of their feet on the fading frost. High school him coming back, he bowed his head, and bathed in the quiet. 

        Desperate to ignore the scrunched up faces of strangers, he cleared his head with a sigh. 

        “Lovely weather compared to yesterday.” Akira placed in a conversation piece that would never be answered. Thinking too much could rot his brain. 

        Ryuji nodded, and playfully nudged him as a reply. 

         Maybe it was okay to let the silence break in their daily life, right? He had to keep assuring himself that all of this was temporary, and that he needed to enjoy it while it lasted. (Wow he sounded awful.) Everyone needs a break once in a while. 

         Right about now, he should’ve been getting an earful about the wacky day his boyfriend had at work. How wild could a bunch of high school athletes be? Apparently to the one next to him -currently deep into daydreaming- it was a lot. 

      For the most part Ryuji was kinda like an open book, just, written entirely in a different language. 

       He got a squeeze to his hand, looking over to catch a smile full of glee. All through losing what he used the most, he kept up his attitude. 

       Beeps of horns, chatter of passerby’s, the world was on full volume now. Leaving the rather upsettingly judgemental park for the urban streets that bursted with acceptance. 

       Children talking about their day, hand in hand with their parents, or businessmen in deep professional mode as they walked briskly. Phones to ears, feet to cement, songs from shops he couldn’t possibly know where they’d come from. Every day, this was just a reminder of how much he loved Tokyo. The lack of distraction making it twice as much today. 

      Back home, it was always quiet. It had to be. Because if you were the only one making noise, you’d be far more than an outcast. His own home being so strict, he blamed the rolling fields of nothing but rice for his limited speech. Growing accustomed, of course, over these years. 

      It kind of contradicted what he was currently thinking about Ryuji, but, ah well.

      Somehow, through all the foot traffic, and despite holding hands, he received a text. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-Can we stop by the grocery store?

 

      Looking up, he shot the guy a puzzled look, lightly pushing the both of them out of the way of the stream of others, “Why?” 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-I wanna make some stew tonight 

 

        Akira frowned, boxing in Ryuji against a wall on the side of some small shop, “I thought I was supposed to baby you.”

        A gurgle as a protest instead of a text, Akira shook his head firmly. Close to that lovely face of his, deep brown staring him back with slight confusion, that immediately spilled over into a scrunched up realization. This is how he’d do it. 

        This is how he’d always crack him. 

        “I don’t cook often anyway,” he jutted his lip out, watching the eyes look straight back at him, only to avoid looking at all. Jittery and all over the place, he knew that making direct contact would break the hard shell, “You’re still sick.” 

         “Auchhh ah.” He tried, nudging to escape. 

          Clicking his tongue, he knew he had him hook line and sinker. Grinning as he got even closer, knowing that strained noise was meant to be a groan mixed with his name, “It’s settled. I’ll whip up something wonderful.” 

          How satisfying it was to get his way, nobody asked? Akira answered to the oblivion, “A hell of a lot,” as he hunched up his shoulders in success. 

           He’d try not to gloat  _ too  _ much. Keyword there, being try. Not hiding his victory beam as he closed the distance and lightly pecked the lips waiting for him. Maybe it would be like some voodoo magic, and a kiss would bring Ryuji's voice back? 

            It was unfortunately not the case when he pulled away to look at the embarrassment filling Ryuji's face, cheeks flushed. Rolling his eyes, he pulled out his phone, and tried his best to look composed. So easily flustered, it was odd to not see him sputtering like the old scooter he had back in his hometown. Him not up for the public display of affection wasn’t it, he just loved it too much, it disabled his thoughts for a bit. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-U suck >:(

 

_ Oh he opened up a perfect opportunity- _

           “And you swall-“ He tried. Only to be silenced by Ryuji's warm hand. Giggles still evident, though muffled, the beet red face with the wobbly frown made him laugh even more. 

            He was allowed to tease sometimes! Especially when it came to Ryuji and that tomato colored skin that always happened when he did so. 

           Stopping by LeBlanc for a moment, Akira wanted to get Ryuji the hot chocolate he deserved in times like this. Hearing him sniffle and cough, he could remember fondly, the first time he’d caught a cold, Sojiro had made him such a wonderful drink that hit all the negative spots. 

            Of course, save room for Futaba to come and tease Ryuji immediately when she learned he lost his voice, joking, “Finally givin’ him a break from your yapping, Ryuji?” 

              Scowling, he did look a bit wounded by her words. Akira feeling a bit guilty as he raided the back pantry, how would his boyfriend react if he were the one saying those words? How would he feel to know he had a bit of relief without him talking? 

           Well, it was Ryuji afterall. He’d known how to deal with him and his emotions all this time. So used to soothing him in his bad spots, after a few weighted sentences were thrown too hard at him. The tight hug, and the feeling of dread at seeing the solemn look etched by years of harsh situations and language. 

          Most likely, he’d play it off like a fool. Trying not to seem like it bugged him in the slightest, Akira had known the mannerisms to guess that something struck a foul cord. The small flash of him disheartened, he was teased often, and yeah, he joked along too. He knew it had no malice. 

          But sometimes just knowing wasn’t enough. He’d sulk home, shut off the happy-go-lucky personality, and seclude himself until the world righted itself for him. 

         His poor baby, he looked like he wasn’t particularly enjoying the redhead picking on him at the moment… “Futaba,” he warned, dumping the load of supplies into a plastic bag, “Don’t be mean, he’s sick.” 

         Hands immediately up in defense, she waddled away with an eye roll. Ryuji shooting a, “dude you’re such a mom,” look before a smile spread across his face. 

         Back pocket sending vibrations into his butt, it wasn’t hard to guess the text. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-Ur such a mom

 

_ Ah ha!  _ Nailed it. 

            Snickering, Akira shrugged, “Nobody hurts my little man.” 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-God 

-u r srsly gross 

 

           He trilled in response, grabbing the bag of stolen items Sojiro would never know were missing, “You love me though.”

 

**From: Ryuji**

-oh yus 

-A lot 

 

             Akira took pride for a short second. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-But not when ur bein a butt 

 

               Futaba, who, unbeknownst to Akira, had been peering over his shoulder, watching their messages, laughed. Pulling away with the giggles going with her, “Ryuji says funny things even when he can’t.” 

              Both men rolled their eyes, and decided on making their way back into the cold. Everything needed in hand, the way back home didn’t hardly make a dent in time. Hand in hand, not a peep from Ryuji, no coughs, no words, no sniffles… something quickly bubbled in Akira. 

            He couldn’t get emotional over this. He wouldn’t. Just moments before, it was a blessing with the roots of a curse, and now he wanted to take it back? 

            Today was off for a multitude of reasons, maybe them calling off work was the biggest? The lack of voice taking a backseat to the disruption of the daily grind for a good life? 

             No… no that couldn’t possibly be it. 

             Would he admit it? That the crude words and bad jokes where the seal to keep all things depressing out? Ryuji was right there, he was there all day. Right then, sitting chopping after receiving instructions to do so, Akira watched silently. The concentration in his brow more noticeable with the blank sound space, playing any music wouldn’t take away from anything… and Akira couldn’t cook with music anyway. 

           Maybe he yearned for the soft giggle. Or the snort after he himself said something to match the sort of stupidity levels of the one he loved. The, “You dork.” Or the, “I love you.” Such a reward for the indulgence to saying dumb things. 

             The clank of cutlery to their plates filled all that empty air. Instead of listening intently for the details of a day at work, he sat hearing the scrape of metal to ceramic. Trying not to breathe loud enough, the quiet was the sort that had always made him anxious beyond belief. 

              It reminded him of the time he’d spent locked up in those dirty cells after Shido. Knowing someone was there, but stuck focusing on the water dripping from the sink. Thinking deep about his actions, about his thoughts then, and thoughts from years before. What was going on inside his head when he confessed to Ryuji, or, what panic that flashed through his brain when getting arrested.. the first time. What was rushing so fast through his head when Akechi put a bullet between his eyes? Laying on that cold hard bed with nothing to distract him, that nightmare occupied his thoughts constantly. 

            Ryuji had always been there to take that all away. He was in a good place right now. So far away from that awful interrogation room, so distant from those awful feelings. But the prick of sadness, like someone was injecting a poison into his veins, had started to come alive now. 

            He couldn’t possibly have that dark place come back with the lack of Ryuji’s voice, right? 

             A kick to his leg brought him from the thoughts about-  _ thoughts?  _

__ Sliding over a napkin, Ryuji gestured for the go ahead to read the scrawled out lettering.

 

_ -“Feels like I aint even here.”  _

 

__ Before he could retreat his hand, the instinct to reach out and grab it had overwhelmed him beyond repair. Feeling like a high schooler all over again with the embarrassment flooding his cheeks, what was he doing?

             “I know,” he tried to radiate the positivity needed with the easy smile that spread across his face, finally dropping his hold, “But you’re here. You’re here and that’s important to me.” 

              Taking the napkin back, to immediately slide it back over, he grinned at the message. His statement earlier reigning true over his dark thoughts. 

 

_ -“Ur v important too. I love u!!!”  _  A rather crooked smiley face was under the kind words. 

 

              “I love you too,” he grinned, trying not to falter and send any worried messages, “Just wish I could actually hear you say it…” 

               Flashing a sympathetic smile, he quickly went back to eating, Akira’s false face working a bit too much. The comforting attention he craved not being met as the one across from him stuffed his face with no shame. 

            Cleaning up in silence… washing dishes without the loud groans about soggy foods touching his fingers… Every moment seemed to get worse without the constant sound. At this point, he needed anything. 

           “Raaa,” had greeted him after a brisk shower. 

            “Raaa,” in Ryuji language, must’ve meant, “Let’s watch a movie,” as he pointed to a rental for a more recent one on his phone. One they planned to go see in theaters, but never made it out to see. 

            They’d watched that film together later on in the night. Letting dinner settle, browsing on the internet before they decided to play it, laying over each other, blankets acting as cocoons. Some thriller they’d yet to even read reviews on, the blond drew the blinds and both had prepped like they’d always done. No flashing city lights or outside noise to distract them. 

              Just… waiting for commentary was a bit awkward for Akira. Almost expecting the scoffs at the bad acting, or the yelling at the dumb characters. 

              Yet, there he sat. Composed and quiet, little reactions to the scenes were hard not to catch his eye, so distracted by the change. The movie was so far out of his headspace at this point.

            It’d been what? Not even a day, and he was already eating his thoughts. So dumb to even have the inkling that life would be any better with the absence of such an important thing 

            He felt something land in his lap, and the guilt all piled up into seeing Ryuji. Concerned, quickly scribbling while he thought the world away, the past writings all crossed out to display the new one, always trying to save paper. 

 

_ -“You ok?” _

 

            Akira looked up from his lap, and noticed the complete silence. The movie paused, (for how long?) it furthered the awfulness. The loneliness the quiet brought even with Ryuji right there, “Yeah… yeah. Just spacing out.” 

             The movie was dumb anyway.

 

_ -“You sure?”  _

 

             Scrunching up his face, he tried his best to not waver. To show Ryuji he was fine, like those scribbled down words were so far out of the park that they seemed silly. 

              Truth is, he wasn’t. But, it’s today’s language to say, “Yeah I’m good.” Almost expected now, he himself didn’t quite know what he’d do if he’d received the answer, “no,” to, “are you okay?” 

             “Don’t worry. I think I’ll be much better when you get your voice back,” he sighed, now noticing somewhere along the line, Ryuji had draped his legs across his lap. 

             “I am rather tired though,” he added quickly, head falling back into the couch for effect. 

             Nodding, the position Ryuji found himself in, was not desirable for any notepad writing. Instead whipping out his phone with a triumphant grin, like taking it out was a feat worth celebrating. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-We could go cuddle 

-be all cute n shit 

-tomorrows Sunday anyway 

  
  


_ He did have a point. _ Akira silently weighed his options, feeling eyes bore into him for not immediately answering the poor mute. 

          The sigh heard around the world, Akira let his fingers dance along Ryuji's sweatpants. Wishing his head to be up in his lap rather than his legs, wondering if getting frisky would at all change anything… but Ryuji's throat hurt… 

           What the hell was he saying? How gross and desperate could a man be to want something like that when his partner was ill? 

            Before he got the chance to grimace, his phone buzzed, and if he thought hard enough about it, he could try and put the voice he missed so dearly to the noise. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-Don’t be all sulky n shit 

 

           He felt defiant all of the sudden. Who was he to assume Akira was thinking about being sad? What would he think if he knew Akira had been contemplating sex? 

            Raising a brow and trapping the man’s legs under his arms, he decided to test his strength, “Hmmm no.”

             A few wiggles did nothing to the sudden hold he had, hands not budging, it wasn’t hard to catch the annoyance. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-I’ll cough on u 

 

             Watching him twist up in some attempt to do anything, it shouldn’t have been as funny as it was to see him crash back into the couch. The ‘sitting up to cough in Akira’s face,’ really did not work well for him. 

             Being as devious as he was now, he put on a sly grin, leaning over, still holding down his legs tightly, “You still wanna snuggle?” 

              The reply was quick. 

 

**From: Ryuji**

-Strangling my legs is NOT snuggling dude 

             If he imagined it hard enough, he’d picture this as a normal situation. Filling that silence with the upbeat voice of Ryuji. The sounds bringing him joy, it was something he realized he fell for back in high school. 

            If highschool him were to see him now, being drug by that vulgar boy to their own bedroom. How red would his face grow? 

            Pulling him down into their plush comforter, he wished to hear the giggles. Neither of them ever bothering to turn on the lights, they didn’t need a lamp to navigate. Adjusting the both of them to a comfortable position, everything seemed to fall into place in mere seconds. Just as it always had. 

              Settling on the pillows, facing each other in the darkness, Akira smiled. Watching the bashful grin mirroring him, he often wondered how Ryuji could still crumble under positive affection so easily. Really, it was the best part. To see him so overwhelmed by praise and sweetness that he hunched up his shoulders and groaned at Akira. 

              Shaking his head and giving his best, ‘shut up and let me love you,’ expression, Akira reached over and closed their distance. Sheets rustling, no gripes and groans, he could finally hug him without the embarrassment from the one receiving it being vocalized.

            It took a moment, but the one in his arms had fallen asleep before he knew it. Joining him quickly, the city lights twinkled and glowed in their window, sending him off with the comfort that even without his voice, Ryuji could still sooth his aches. 

             Dreaming was sometimes difficult for them. But, tonight seemed to be different. 

            In his dreams, Ryuji spoke. More memories than his imagination creating new things, they were teenagers again. Nothing elaborate, nothing scary or sad. 

             Fighting in the metaverse, hanging out in the attic. Everything seemed so vivid. 

              But he couldn’t dwell on that for long. For his dreams were short lived and cut off by his insomnia. 

              Bedside clock reading well after midnight, Ryuji had kicked himself out of their hug. Still facing Akira, little bit of drool coming out of his mouth like always. The darkness greeted him with open arms. The whole world stilling. 

              He could wake up the sick man next to him for company, but that would be entirely rude of him. Ryuji would tease him endlessly and heckle him for waking him up… that is… if he could. 

              Boy, he sincerely hoped his throat was better when he did wake up. 

       Maybe. Just maybe. All those times Akira had smiled through the agonizingly embarrassing phrases, or loud-mouthed sentences, they weren’t something to think negatively of. 

       It was who he’d fallen in love with all those years back. That boisterous blond with the scowl that didn’t match. Statement doubling towards his fashion sense…  _ oh the plaid and polka dots had to be what drew the line.  _ Ryuji Sakamoto was meant to be put on full volume, and Akira’s heart ached to hear him utter something absolutely stupid again.

        Like he was gone to fight, Akira was about ready to place his hand dramatically on the window next to their bed, and stare off into the horizon. Ignore the twinkling city lights, and focus on the sunrise, gently whispering,  _ “When will my lover return from war?”  _  Now, somehow a housewife left behind with the kids. 

 

         He had a dramatic imagination, didn’t he? 

 

        Sighing, the dark room began to have the orange glow he’d remembered when the early morning hours used to mean bedtime. When 5am was a comfortable time to rest after a night of fun. 

          Raspy breaths coming from Ryuji’s throat, he watched the rise and fall of his chest like it was something poetic. Phlegm, his mortal enemy at the moment, had caused the quiet disruptions in his breathing. No pain, no obnoxiously loud heaving… just… low volume wheezing. Although very painful to listen to, he’d take it over, you know,  _ not breathing.  _

          He’d take anything at this point. Even snoring. To which sort of reminded him of a statement Ryuji had mentioned a while back. Mentioning that Akira’s snores didn’t bug him, made him think long and hard about the fact that he didn’t even know he snored. How sweet of course, bless his heart, but how shocking. The little blood of memories cheering him up, he never would’ve considered snores to be something cute, but he’d go with Ryuji’s word. 

         Some stray notification lit up his phone at the bedside, and he’d finally caved. Tired of sitting and staring lovingly at the lump under the covers, he reached over and unlocked it, light illuminating the rather dark room. 

           A little trip down memory lane wouldn’t hurt, right? It’s why he’d kept so many videos and photos all this time. 

           Back to the start, back to a video of a street performer and their dog. A time when personas where a thing, they were still kids fresh into a budding friendship, back when a blond Ryuji laughed along. Clapping to the beat, and looking back consistently to Akira, almost like he needed the reassurance that being so bubbly was okay. He wasn’t used to that, neither of them were. And when he got home to LeBlanc that night, he replayed that video over and over with the mindset  _ “holy hell I have a friend.”  _

__ That ‘friend,’ part may have shifted over the years into something more… but. 

          Scrolling a bit, he stopped at the few pictures, life flashing before his eyes as they all flicked past. 

          “So-“ 

          He paused the video. 

_ He remembers this one vividly.  _

       Why did he ever record this? How didn’t Ryuji see the camera pointed at him, “So- you take the pole. You put it here. And tada!”

        As dark as it was, the flash on Akira’s phone showed Ryuji’s  _ almost  _ perfect attempt at putting up a tent. Giddy, although it taking hours upon hours to figure out.  _ Only later when it had started to rain in the night did they realize he’d forgotten to put the tarp over the roof.  _

__ Proudness practically radiated from Ryuji as he beamed and clapped at himself. Akira snickering, knowing that the fading blond haired guy had no idea it was a recording, to him, it was a flashlight to help out. He never told him otherwise.

         The next one didn’t even include him speaking, but it didn’t have to in order to make Akira’s heart swell. 

          That old track, Shujin hardly changing in the year he had to head back home. The people still asses as they sat around him weren’t relevant, he had all the thieves with him, watching the line of boys from the stands. The particular bright hair color standing alone amongst the rest. 

            Ryuji didn’t know Akira had traveled all the way out to Tokyo just to see his first track meet after everything. Knowing from texts and calls that he had been practicing so  _ so  _ hard, to see him so concentrated then, was something beautiful. 

            Believing that he needed a surprise, Akira couldn’t wait to smother Ryuji in kisses and hugs. Missing him that much was still a feeling fresh in his soul, though so long ago, the pain of not being with Ryuji in the most important times still stung. 

             He’d won. As the video would show. Almost beating his goal didn’t really matter. All that mattered to Akira in that moment, was the feeling of pride and love he had felt. Propelling his legs down the steps, bounding towards his boyfriend with top speed as he sit far away from his teammates and bask in the glory of running again. Sweat glistening, Akira didn’t even have to watch anything to remember this whole thing so vividly. The video cutting off just as he’d excitedly exited the bleachers. 

             The next recording he’d stolen from Ann, screen recording it, her little icon in the corner showed himself tackling Ryuji. Laughter filling the air. 

            God… he missed that laugh. 

            This was so freaking depressing. He just wanted to reach over and hug Ryuji, the slight part in his lips suggesting Akira a kiss to his forehead. Maybe straddle him as a wake up call to get his voice back, squish his cheeks between his hands and look into the tired eyes. 

              But alas, as Akira realized he’d been staring for quite some time. Ryuji was peacefully asleep, and he couldn’t possibly disturb a sleeping man. 

        Sighing. He watched more videos. 

         Graduation, birthdays, him doing goofy things for the sake of knowing that Akira was recording him. 

           When had the sun risen? What time was it? How many videos had he gone through in the end? 

           He sighed again. Because watching more videos just made him even more sad. 

           Dawn fast approaching, daylight threatening to seep through the curtains. Could he possibly go another day feeling this lonely? Would he even last a minute just knowing Ryuji wouldn’t be able to speak to him? 

            Something twinged in his heart, and he clutched it for all it was worth. Just the thought of being so alone for yet another day was unbearable enough, that feeling it firsthand would’ve been far worse. 

            He was going to go insane. All those thoughts making a hell of a mess in his head. Asking far too many questions for Akira’s morning brain to process. 

             How would he cope? 

             Should he take Ryuji in? 

             What if it’s actually permanent? 

             What if Ryuji never spoke to him again? What if he had to live off the memories and videos? Would he be able to handle it? 

               If he were to be ill, Akira would be a monster to keep him away from a doctor. How could he tell Mrs. Sakamoto? How would their friends react? 

                How would Ryuji react? Would he fall into a depression? Go back to the old days with a scowl carved into his face? Another disability added on to his leg. How could he possibly work with no voice?

 

_ Oh god oh god oh lord oh no.  _

 

__ He was overthinking beyond belief, ready to begin hyperventilating at any moment. Because, the thought that Ryuji wouldn’t even be able to be there fully to take him down from his panic attack like always, had scared the shit out of him. 

              The dull headache he’d had all night suddenly grew uncomfortable. Sitting up, and placing his head to his knees, his hands scrambled to clutch at his scalp. 

              Nothing was okay. Everything was wrong, and how would it all be mended if the only person he trusted his feelings with couldn’t even speak!? 

               “Hey, you okay?” the groggy voice interrupted his heavy thoughts, peeking through his arm to see the sleepy face of his boyfriend. 

            Ahh shit he woke him up.

                Not realizing he was on the verge of tears, he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Looking to the other, still drunk on a nice rest, Akira was envious that he didn’t even get to sleep that night. 

                “Yeah- Yeah. I’m good, I think?” He smoothed back his hair, and fell against their headboard, “Just freaking out is all.” 

                “About what?” Ryuji asked, now propping himself up to get a better look to the situation at hand. The morning sun dancing across the smooth features of the one he loved. 

              Shrugging, Akira looked to the curtains, avoiding the concerned look, “Everything, you know? It was one of those nights again.” 

               Ryuji sat up rather quickly for being so tired, scooching close, and looking straight into the face of the man who seemed to want to ignore him. 

                “Again? ‘Kira, why didn’t you say anythin’? I knew somethin’ was up yesterday you ass,” gently, he laid a hand on Akira’s knee, “You shoulda told me.” 

                Nodding along wasn’t enough to satisfy him, apparently. The narrowed eyes directed towards Akira dragging him back into a conversation he didn’t want to have. So fearful of the embarrassment. 

                Sighing, Ryuji sat back, “Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

                “Because-“ fuck he was having such a difficult time. Admitting he was upset was never his favorite thing to do, especially to someone like his boyfriend, therapeutic tendencies written in his genes, “You can’t speak, what reply would I get?” 

 

               … 

              “Akira.” 

              ….. 

             “Yes?” 

             …….. 

_ “Akira. Think.”  _

            ………. 

           But, he  _ was  _ thinking. A little too hard at that. 

           …..

_  Oh god wait- _

         “HOLY SHIT YOU'RE TALKING!?!” 

 

          Neither of them could possibly carry on any more of a conversation over Ryuji's laughter. Grabbing at his stomach, it spilled from his mouth like music to Akira’s ears. 

            Was his stupidity that funny? No, probably not. Was the giggles the best medicine to help his heart after a day of not hearing that voice? Of course. 

            How could he possibly ever even think for a second that the absence would be a blessing? It had been such an awful day, and he hadn’t even realized until he’d soaked up all the negativity that silence could bring. 

            “Ryuji,” He tried, rather halfhearted, waiting for the laughter to die down enough to get his message across. 

             He loved this, so why did he ever fancy such torture? His boyfriends voice was a part of his personality, and he wasn’t the same person without it. 

            Attempting to calm himself, it was too early to be waking up the world with his snorts of laughing. As much as he even dreaded to make them stop, he needed closure to the awful situation he’d been through. 

          “Ryuji I’m gonna shove you off this bed.” He threatened. 

             Stopping in his tracks, his face mirrored a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Looking straight back at Akira with shock, the hint of, ‘I bet you won’t,’ in his eyes had tempted him. Ultimately deciding against the violent route. 

            Arching a brow, Akira would have to act fast. The grin spreading across the others face a sign that his warning wasn’t enough. 

_ Fucking hell he missed this buffoon. _

__ Grabbing him by his shoulders, he threw him into a hug. 

__ Beautifully done, arms wrapped tightly, the little rasp to his breathing still brought on worries. Overshadowed however, by the overwhelming sense of completeness that, ironically had no soundtrack to. 

                Silent in all the best ways, it was an agreement between the both of them that things had to grow serious for a second. Feeling the hot air of another on his neck, Akira buried his face as far as he could into the soft cotton of a shirt that had gone out of style before Ryuji had ever bought it. 

                “I missed you,” was all he could manage, tapping his fingers against his boyfriend's back, feeling the lulling hum of his fading sickness vibrate through. 

                  The eye roll was out of love, even if Akira wasn’t able to see it,  _ he knew,  _ “You’re a sap, ‘Kira. I was here the whole time.” 

                  “Shut up and let me have this moment.” 

                   A sigh as a reward. They sat for a few moments, respecting that unspoken trust in each other, that this is what needed to be done. 

                  Everything was perfect. 

               Everything seemed like it would be okay from then on. A little hiccup in their lives a mere bump in the road. 

                “Wait I can talk now,” Ryuji had peeled himself right out of their embrace. 

                “Yes, good observation.” Akira countered with a hope that his guess to what would happen next was wrong. 

 

               …. 

               “I gotta make up for lost time.” 

_ He really didn’t. He really really didn’t have to.  _

__ “I GOT MY VOICE BACK, WOOOOOOO!” Akira grimaced at the volume set so suddenly high right next to him. 

               Falling back, he continued, and Akira prepares himself for more, “HOLY SHITTT! IT FEELS GOOOD TO BE BACK!”

                “AHHHHHHHHH.” 

_ There was no stopping him now.  _

               Life was back to normal…. thankfully. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was NOTTTTTTT supposed to be this long lol! 
> 
> I'll probably see ya'll for pegoryu week! Whenever that is ╮(￣ω￣;)╭
> 
> Or Ryuji's birthday!? Idk. It's been so long since ive produced something, I'm excited for your comments! This tag has been dead for a while! And now I can finally say I've done a sick fic! 
> 
> I can't wait to go back to fun stuff :( goldfish fic was so fun to write!


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